Sooner
by Foxy'sGirl
Summary: Growing up is easy enough until the responsibility hits. Even the most level-headed nineteen year old in the world has their limits.


**So no judgment if I'm completely honest if I say I re-read the plot summary for httyd 2 on Wikipedia and had a little freak out that they're going to mess everything up, so then I wrote a one-shot to make myself feel better, right?**

**Well, I ended up liking it, so I thought I'd share. **

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Hiccup shoves into the forge, whacking his head on a hook he can never quite get used to as he pushes into his back room. Chief. Family.

Why is his father bringing this up right now? Why is this suddenly urgent? What, have they been peaceful for too long and he just wants to stir things up? Or is Stoick itching to retire?

What would his dad even do if he weren't chiefing?

Take up knitting? Help Gobber in the forge?

Train a couple terrors?

Hiccup kicks the nearest wall in frustration, groaning when he stubs his toe.

It's not like his dad doesn't have _decades _left, probably. People aren't dying of dragon attacks every week and there's been a population boom, and the island doesn't need any more kids right now!

Why is that some universal sign of success? Is he still Hiccup the Useless until he has a flock of brawny sons?

He's not—He's nineteen, he's not exactly in a hurry to carry on that family name, what with his dad being perfectly alive. And well, he heard the midwives gossiping, and someone who's thirty just had a baby. _Astrid_ has time.

And that's another thing, she's nineteen too. And his _girlfriend_ in some eternally loose and violent sense of the word, and she's getting roped into this too.

He just wants _time_.

The world is so much bigger than they'd thought, and every time he flies he can't help but focus on all that they can't possibly know. There's so much out there, so man islands and people and dragons they've never even heard of all just _waiting_.

Wouldn't Berk be better off knowing about the world? In 5 years, 10 years, when his dad does make him _chief_, the island would be happier and more prosperous and…and…and—

"Urg!" He groans, throwing a hammer at an anvil as twin frustrations clash. He has everything he always wanted, everything he never thought he'd have sitting in front of him. The chiefdom, the _wife_, the _future_…but he's not a lonely twelve year old anymore. He's…

Everything can't stay the _same_, that's stagnant and crazy and oppressive. He's…They're different now than all those seven other generations, they have dragons as allies instead of enemies, and the whole planet at their fingertips. He can't just—He will be chief _someday_, but if it's now he's just going to be another Hamish the Second. And sure, they might expand and flourish, and they might even explore.

Hel, he might get really lucky and have a dozen little burly _Hofferson_ children, but they'll be _stuck_.

The whole island will be as stuck as he is.

"Are you done throwing things yet?" A familiar feminine voice peeks into his thoughts and he looks over his shoulder. Astrid is leaning on the doorframe, idly swinging the hammer he'd taken out his anger with a moment ago.

"How'd you know I was here?" He asks and she shrugs.

"Toothless came to get me," he frowns and she peers at him carefully. "He climbed through my bedroom window actually, and pulled all the blankets off of my bed until I followed him." She looks down and he follows her gaze, taking note of her noticeably missing armor. She looks skinny and _young_, and he sighs.

"Is he outside?"

"Yeah," she pushes off of the doorway, tough and pretending not to be slightly hurt. "I figured you'd rather talk to him." Hiccup sighs and deflates, rubbing a hand across his face and gesturing towards the two stools in front of his paper cluttered workbench.

"I'll talk to him later," he nods and she follows his lead, sitting down. They stare at each other for a moment, too quiet compared to their normal rowdiness. Astrid yawns and bends down to tug her boots fully onto her foot. "Did Toothless wake you up?"

"Yeah, and from what I could see in the dark, he trashed my mom's garden," she laughs. "And ripped the shutters off of the first floor windows. You better come over and fix that tomorrow."

"Oh wow," Hiccup sighs, flushing bright red. "Yeah, of course I'll come fix it."

"So this better be important," she threatens through a smile. "Why exactly are you throwing hammers?" She asks, setting the tool in question on the corner of his work table.

"Do you ever wish we were kids again?" He blurts, looking impossibly far from childish. 5 years has been anything but subtle, and she's suddenly hyperaware that she's craning her neck to look up at him, even sitting down.

"Odin's balls, no," Astrid shakes her head emphatically. "I am not going through all that again."

"All of what?" Hiccup laughs at her strident reaction.

"Being short and cranky and arguing my parents in circles trying to convince them I was ready for a full size weapon," she rolls her eyes at the memory.

"I don't know," he sighs, looking down at his feet, almost touching hers. "Sometimes it would be nice to be eight years old again."

"Why 8?" She asks and he shrugs.

"As in, pre-young adult hood, I don't specifically mean 8," he corrects and she chews her lip, contemplating how much she wants to say.

"We weren't friends when we were 8," she offers and he grunts in assent. "And I wouldn't want to go back to thinking you were a weirdo."

"Weirdo, huh?"

"I guess I still think you're weird," she amends. "But I just got used to it."

"Thanks for summing that up," he gripes, looking up at her carefully through his eyelashes. "So _friends_, huh?"

"What?" She asks, forever frustrated and unable to keep up with whatever is going on in his brain.

"So, we're _friends_?" He can't help but run through every kiss in his mind. Sure, they weren't particularly regular, or predictable, but definitely frequent enough for him to be reasonably sure that she's committed.

If there's anything he knows about Astrid, it's that she hates being spoken for, hates being on anyone's word but her own. Wandering in that labeling direction was never worth the threat. But now it's supposed to all be scooped up in some inhuman bow, and he can't even be sure if Astrid is…not _his_, persay. In league with him.

Aligned.

"Of course we're friends," she shrugs. "I probably spend more time with you than anyone but Stormfly."

"Right," despite everything legitimately important going on, he can't help but be…_bruised_.

Friends? He wants to ask if a _friend_ would practically lure him to Raven's point and make out with him for an hour and absolutely ensure that he'd be late for a meeting with his father.

Because that was apparently her agenda last Thorsday.

As a _friend_, obviously.

It was _friendly_ making out.

"What?" She asks after a too quiet moment where she's stuck watching a million emotions flit across his face in succession.

"_Just _friends?" He asks awkwardly, deep blush almost out of place on his mostly matured, now angular face.

"You're an idiot, you've been my boyfriend for like 4 years. But you're my friend _too_," she snaps, rolling her eyes as his embarrassment proves contagious. "Obviously we're far more than _just_ friends."

"Obviously?" He questions and she looks at him sternly, sliding her foot alongside his right one, rubbing her boot along his.

"Just because I don't _hang_ on you all the time doesn't mean I don't care about you." He stares at the point of contact between them for a moment before looking back at her face. " And plus, does Toothless wake up all your _friends_ when you're having a tantrum in the middle of the night?" She quips, leaving her foot against his with purposeful self-assurance.

"It wasn't a tantrum," he defends. "I was just working on my aim."

"Your aim throwing hammers?"

"Exactly."

"Right," she chews on her lip before sliding her other foot towards him and crimping his boot between her heels. "So what is actually going on?"

"I'm going to be chief of Berk," he mutters and she frowns.

"Haven't you always kind of known that?" She asks, trying to sound more curious than caustic. "Since you're the chief's son and all?"

"Sooner rather than later," he corrects and she nods in slow understanding.

"That's a big change, a lot of responsibility."

"And I mean—" he comes alive from his sulking posture, green eyes like anxious embers as he tugs on the ends of his hair. "My father doesn't even care about exploring beyond the North Sea, if it's not finding Vikings to trade with, he's just not interested. With the dragons we can go so much further than we could before and…" he seems to run out of steam and slumps back down, resting his forehead on his hands. "I don't understand why we, of all people, are waiting for the world to come to us."

"Have you tried telling him that?" She asks.

"Which part?" He groans, exasperated.

"The last part," she specifies, "if anyone could get behind charging the world, it's your father."

"Oh, I have no doubt I could get his support." Hiccup affirms. "But…"

"But _you_ want to be the one exploring," Astrid guesses from the too familiar look on his face. It's the same face he stares off into the distance with after a long day of flying, when it takes a good loud yell to get his attention. "And I think that's a good idea," he shrugs in agreement that he's obviously vaguely ashamed about. "Some legion that your father sends of big burly guys with weapons would get attacked on the spot."

"What, I don't look like a threat?" He asks and holds back an unkind smile at his trying to be tough expression.

"I was thinking more about your beggar of a dragon," Astrid gestures outside to where Toothless is surely anxiously waiting.

"Come on," Hiccup laughs, aghast. "He's a night fury, the more bad-ass dragon on the island."

"I saw him trying to flirt a sardine out of Gothi the other day," she tells Hiccup, "he was pretty much selling a belly rub."

"That is _not_ dignified, bud!" Hiccup shouts and Toothless chirps, pointed and indignant from his post outside the forge.

"Anyway, your dad wants you to be chief and…?" Astrid yanks their conversation back on topic, wrapping her arms around herself and leaning her shoulder sideways against the table.

"We haven't gotten that far," Hiccup refuses eye contact. "After chief, the next word out of his mouth is _family_."

"Oh."

Astrid looks at the floor, her face flushing as she mulls that over. Of course she knew it'd come up at some point, probably soon, and her parents have been inquisitive but…

"I just thought I'd have time," Hiccup finishes her thought, and she looks back at him.

"Exactly," Astrid agrees. "But…it's not exactly shocking that they're asking," she adds, averting her eyes and almost wishing she'd stopped to put on her armor in her rush after the frantic night fury.

"People are nagging you too?" Hiccup asks with raised eyebrows and Astrid shrugs.

"Just my parents," she looks at the ground and summons that courage she shouldn't need, but always does. "But it seems pretty normal, I mean, my mom was sixteen when she married my dad."

"Because they thought they'd be killed by dragons by 30," Hiccup amends, and he's a wide-eyed and snarky 14 year old beneath everything.

"Or sunk in a boat, or killed in battle with other Vikings, or captured at sea," Astrid numbers off on her fingers and he frowns at the floor. "It's not like dragons are a be-all, end-all for danger."

"Occupational hazards," Hiccup muses quietly to himself, gritting his metal foot against the dirt floor.

"What?"

"Oh," he looks up at her. "Nothing."

"Do you think our parents have talked yet?" Astrid asks, maintaining a careful blank face as half of her heart flutters out of control. "About a contract?"

"I think my dad is going to make me ask him to get _that_ ball rolling," Hiccup submits hypothetically. "Man up and all."

"I don't know," Astrid flushes, "I'd at least have gotten an offer from the Jorgenson's if there weren't something in motion."

"Well, I did hear that it was supposed to be _obvious_," he grins and her heart jolts as she kicks him in the shin in response. He cringes and her foot stays resting against his ankle.

"Imagine if someone said we'd be talking about this someday back when we were eight," Astrid laughs to herself and the room feels a little smaller, imperceptibly closer.

"I would have been so grossed out," Hiccup admits and she looks up at him, more hurt than she should be.

"_Grossed_ out?"

"Snotlout told me girls had cooties!" He defends, "and I don't think I fully got over that until I was at least nine."

"I was sure I'd never get _married_," the word is _solid_, like a boulder dropped on the floor. "I was going to be a shield maiden like my aunt Ingrid."

"You sound like you changed your mind," Hiccup says slowly, like he's afraid of waking someone.

"Ingrid died when I was 11, and we stopped fighting dragons," she says curtly, before softening and bracing herself. "And I started liking things other than fighting."

"Like what?" Hiccup pushes and Astrid cuts it off with a glare.

"I came here to make _you_ talk."

"You make that sound so helpful," he quips. "I'm shocked I'm not strung up somewhere." She pulls a face at him and almost stands up, but he holds a hand out in apology and she stills. "I don't know what else we need to talk about."

"We haven't figured out anything," Astrid tells him, crossing her ankles on top of his foot and leaning her elbow on his workbench. "Like what are you actually going to _do_ tomorrow."

"What I always do," he says stubbornly and she rolls her eyes.

"Do you want to be chief?"

"I don't know," he admits, anxiousness creeping back up the back of his neck.

"Do you want a family?" She asks, impossibly direct and Hiccup sits up straighter.

"Someday."

"What about me? Am I involved?" Astrid adds, voice faltering as it sounds far _clingier_ than she intended.

"Do I want _you_?" He repeats.

"That's what I asked," she shrugs near violently, trying not to flinch from the nearly electric current passing from their touching ankles.

"Of course I want you _involved_."

"Now?" She tries, as distanced as possible while he sighs and blinks slowly. "Because you have to make some sort of decision here—"

He leans in and kisses her, neatly snipping the end of her sentence. She stiffens then relaxes into it, hand resting on his shoulder as her lips move slowly with his. He's definitely never made the move before, and something breaks as her hands fist into the leather pads on his shoulders. He groans against her mouth as his fingers cup the back of her neck, too warm on her skin.

"Is that an answer?" Hiccup mumbles, barely pulling back.

"Mmm…not quite," she laughs, scooting her stool closer and wrapping an arm around his shoulders and smashing her lips back to his. His nerves are worn away enough that he laughs against her prying tongue, happily returning the kiss. "Ok, so you've decided something," she pulls back after a moment to breathe, sitting up straight and letting her arm slowly fall from his shoulders.

"I—" and something about the way she's _beaming_ at him tows the day's baggage into his chest. "This just makes it harder, Astrid."

"How does this make it harder?" she asks, exasperated as her kiss swollen lips throb hotly on her face. "Everything seems to be a _little_ clearer now."

"How is this clearer?" Hiccup asks. "Before I could just—"

"What, you were just going to leave?" She snorts. "Just pick up and leave everything so you didn't have to grow up? I don't want to do it either, but you can't just pretend you're fourteen."

The words hang impossibly heavy in the air and Hiccup scoots his feet away from hers, staring at the perpetually half-packed sack in the corner.

"Astrid—"

"And what was I supposed to do? Sit here and _pine_ for you while you go on adventures?"

"Astrid, if we're making this _permanent_, how long do we really have until everything gets…it's all just _complicated_," he stutters out and she rolls her eyes.

"Something like thirty to fifty years."

"I mean until—"

"So you're telling me that you can train dragons, and walk around with one foot, and build everything anyone could ever dream up, but you can't figure out how to carry a _baby_ on a dragon?"

Hiccup sputters.

"Baby?" His voice cracks for the first time in at least a few years and Astrid blushes.

"Isn't that the big doomsday?"

"I was thinking marriage and—"

"Married or—If you go off on some adventure, Hiccup, I'm going to be with you, ready for whenever you piss off someone you shouldn't," Astrid insists. "You're not the only one with a dragon, and you're not the only one who wants to see the world."

"And that's _totally_ going to work with my dad," he nods, grinning too wide for his face. "Completely."

"We'll handle that tomorrow," she stands up. "After you fix the _half_ of my house that your dragon destroyed."

"So I should probably get some sleep," she pushes onto his feet, feeling taller than before she came.

"Yeah and control Toothless this time," she yawns. "I'm exhausted."

"Goodnight Astrid," he grins, appreciating her tired face far too much for his minimal sanity. Chief doesn't seem quite so horrible…right now…for right now.

"Yup," she nods, flushing and grinning as she pushes out of the forge, stopping to give Toothless a scratch and a peck on the head before slumping exhausted back towards her house.

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**Anyway, I hope everyone liked it. It was super interesting getting into this completely different place here. I don't know. **

**Any reviews would be exceedingly appreciated! I'd really like to know how y'all think I did. **


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